


Light Bulb Moment

by losyanya



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Depression, Gen, Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), Vignette, seriously just angst and nothing more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:41:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25022560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losyanya/pseuds/losyanya
Summary: Aziraphale may have the brightest smile, but the thoughts it hides are not always light.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 49





	Light Bulb Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Much gratitude and appreciation to [werebear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/werebear/pseuds/werebear) for beta reading!

An angel is a manifestation of divine illumination. An ethereal vessel of light.

A heavenly light bulb, so to speak.

A light bulb can be turned off. It can burn out. Or, if it has a point of weakness, a leak for inert gas contents to escape, the heated glass can shatter abruptly, strewing the surroundings with translucent projectiles. A rare event, generally reserved for extreme circumstances (who could blame it).

Can a heavenly light bulb burst? What would that look like?

Aziraphale wonders sometimes. Well, a part of Aziraphale does.

During team meetings, performance reviews or surprise check-ups -  
while justifying every action he's taken, planned to take, thought of, considered within the realm of possibility -  
discovering for the umpteenth time that the span of his inadequacies extends beyond his imagination -  
smoothing the hem of his waistcoat into bald glossiness it was never meant to possess -  
twirling the signet ring until it acquires a new inner layer, the underlying circle of flesh red and raw -  
endlessly shifting and twisting his torso, his hands, his face under the icy scrutiny -  
hoping against hope that his smile remains warm and easy, notwithstanding the twitch in his cheek that threatens to twist it into a grimace -

Aziraphale finds a strangely calm part of himself watching the carrying on, as if detached, from an outside perspective.

This might be the most angelic part of him. Might be the only truly angelic part, judging by how it observes the fidgety hand-wringing and uneasy glances with the same remoteness as the pair of purple eyes regularly trained on him. No emotion but morbid curiosity - can an angel actually snap?

Not give up, because even accepting the hopelessness of one's misgivings is a choice, one that would come with too much guilt and shame to bear thinking of.

Not quit; because the satisfaction and defiant giddiness of rebellion would last but moments before dissolving, uncovering the underlying ashen taste of failure, the voice whispering that no matter how hard one slams the door, quitting is nothing beyond a loud surrender.

Actually snap. Break apart, unavoidably and irreversibly. Find the end to endless grace and patience. Empty every reserve, drain dry every well, fray every thread, until the outcome is truly beyond choice, beyond ability to prevent, beyond return.

Beyond control lies the promised land of no guilt.

And one would think, even if heavenly, a light bulb with so many flaws and weak points in its design…

_No. Stop, go back, retrace your steps. This is dangerous ground to tread on. She made the angels, and Her work cannot be faulty, is beyond reproach._

But the blemishes are there.

And self-blame layers, multiplies, expands, building up pressure, straining against the glass walls, seeking the final defect.

In a way, the calmest part of Aziraphale reasons, this could be fun to witness.

A briefest moment of shattering blinding brilliance.

Before light is no more.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [losyanya](https://losyanya.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr - please feel free to message!


End file.
